


Cas, Cassie, Clarence, Castiel, and Cas Again

by Jewel15



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Dean, College AU, Dean is Bad at Feelings, Gabe and Meg are the true MVP's, Gay Castiel, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, also he hates green apple lollies, artist!Cas, bad at feelings, but it's all good cuz Cas is also
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-12 00:48:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20555468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jewel15/pseuds/Jewel15
Summary: Cassie ends his tirade by suddenly ripping off his trench coat with violent, tense movements before abruptly sprawling over it on his desk like a marionette whose strings had been cut.Meg, who’d been shrewdly listening to Cassie’s rant now leaned forward and interlocked her fingers over her own desk. She looked like she was mockingly pretending to be a teacher as she said, “Well, I know what he meant about me staring at your ass, and it explains why he hates my guts. Also why he blew up”





	1. The Angel

Dean was sitting in the middle of his 10:00 am Mythology class, and he couldn't hear a damn word of it. It was like he had been walking in a fog since last night. When his best friend Castiel - or Cas as he had nicknamed him soon after they’d met- had returned to their shared dorm room with the worst news Dean had heard in years. He moved to hunch over the desk he’s sitting at and rested his head on his arms; he hadn’t even needed to tune out Ms. Moseley, he was too muddled to focus even if he had wanted to. Mythology was by far his favorite class... but today he was consumed solely by the twisted feeling of dread in his gut and the pounding of his head. He spent a split second considering attempting to work up the effort to berate himself for being so melodramatic, but then the horrible numbness of the fog returned and he didn’t even care about how much of a girl he was being. 

Dean could still hear the sound of the door slamming shut, his ears felt like they were still ringing. A part of him resented Cas for just leaving like that, the much larger part had realized the instant the door shut that he deserved it after how much of a dick he’d been after hearing the news. He felt his cheeks flush as his stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch and he felt a shame he hadn’t felt in a long time, not since his dad had finally left for good . Dean vaguely recognized that his hands were shaking on the table and that his body felt weak and empty. He hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday, he was too nauseous to stomach anything after Cas’d left. 

He could feel a concerned gaze on his face, but couldn’t find the energy to lift his head even to give false reassurances to his friend Charlie. It didn’t matter much, the spunky redhead would see through it anyway, she always did. Charlie was like a little sister to him and his little brother Sam after his uncle Bobby started fostering her in High School. They had been living with him by that point. Their dad had been gone much longer than normal, usually he’d have stumbled back in drunk after a few weeks away. They hadn’t realized till much later that this time he wasn’t coming back. They found they didn’t care as much as they once would’ve, before they had become accustomed to his unpredictability and carelessness. Of course, Dean had been responsible for paying the bills and making sure Sammy made it to school everyday for years before living with Bobby, so it’s not like they were that dependent on him in the first place. When they were really young John’d sometimes bother to drop them off at Bobby’s while he was gone, but even that miniscule effort left him when Dean started middle school. 

They hadn’t seen Bobby in a while when he had suddenly stopped in for a visit to check on the boys. He had been driving through town to see a friend who lived in their area, Bobby had no idea how bad it’d gotten with them. He immediately tried to get them to come stay with him- John could go to hell for all he cared. Dean had resisted at first, stubborn in his resolve that it was his job to take care of Sammy, as his father had ingrained in him for as long as he could remember. But Dean loved his brother more than anything else, so he had eventually conceded. He quickly realized that Sammy’s best chance at the life he wanted would be with Bobby, and like hell would either brother consider being seperated. 

Sam had adapted quickly, easily making friends at his middle school and getting used to his new life at Bobby’s. Dean had a bumpier start. Bobby hadn’t expected him to hold a job or contribute any to the bills - he was only 15 for god’s sake-but he put him to work in his auto-shop when he realized the boy wouldn’t do well with being idle after so long being the support of their family. So Bobby once again became the father-figure he had been in the earlier days of their childhood. Their memories of John consisted of him leaving barely enough money for them to have food to eat when he left for indefinite lengths of time. Not to mention the dreaded trips to shooting ranges on the rare days he was sober, and the looks of unforgiving disappointment on the vet’s face when the boys couldn’t make perfect shots. Their memories of Bobby were of him teaching them to catch a baseball and fishing on his boat. They would play in Bobby’s junkyard with his old black lab Rumsfield while Bobby made burgers for lunch. They hadn’t had a loving parental presence since their mom had died in a house fire when Dean was only four- Sam had no memories of her at all. 

It was after a couple months living with Bobby that he had gotten a call from the town Sheriff, Jody Mills. A teenage Charlie Bradbury’s parents had just passed in a car accident; she wanted to see if Bobby was open to fostering the girl so she wouldn’t have to leave town. He had first registered in the foster system in order to adopt the boys and he was now the closest viable home, Bobby had taken her in without hesitation. It had been weeks before the boys managed to coax out the once cheerful girl from the depression she’d fallen into, but as the girl began to heal the tiny family grew to love her. She was adopted soon after, and when Dean and Charlie had graduated Sioux Falls High School (with Sam following in a couple years) they were both headed to Stanford. Dean had taken convincing on this too- even to simply apply for the scholarship in the first place-but he eventually agreed. He had been faced with his dad’s disappointment for years, John would always say how Sam was the smart one, while at least Dean was good with a car and decent in a fight. Consequently Dean had long ago accepted that he would probably never be smart enough for college, though he’d make damn sure Sam went. 

Sam wouldn’t have any of this and made Dean apply to all of the same ones he and Charlie were interested in. No one was more surprised then Dean when he had not only got into a decent amount but got many partial and full scholarships; Sam of course wasn’t surprised in the least but he was proud as hell of his big brother. Dean wondered idly what Sam would think about the things he’d said to Cas yesterday, he winced at the thought of the major bitch face he’d likely receive from his sasquatch of a little brother. Cas and Sam had met on one of Sam’s visits to see his siblings, and the two had become fast friends. Charlie had practically imprinted on Cas like a duckling when he had introduced them at the beginning of the semester, they’d been friends nearly as long as Dean and Cas had been (it was a good thing Charlie was only into chicks though, otherwise Dean’d have another problem on his hands). Sam and Cas had kept in regular contact in between visits and Dean just knew Sam would lecture him about how much of a major tool he’d been as soon as he heard. He also knew that he and Charlie would both understand why Dean had lashed out like that if he told them the ‘news’. But he didn’t want to have to explain it to them, their anger and disappointment at his dickish behavior towards their friend would turn into something much worse when he explained what the argument was about. 

No, then he’d have to look at their faces of pity and sympathy. When he’d first accidentally revealed to them the crush he had on Cas, it had been when he was so drunk he couldn’t even see straight. The weeks of alternative teasing and pestering that had followed were mildly annoying compared to the melancholy moods they’d occasionally fall into around him and Cas afterwards. Once they’d realized both that he had severely understated when he’d called his feelings for his best friend a ‘crush’ and that he would never ever act on them, no matter what they said to him. Dean was too afraid of rejection; he loved his quirky, blue-eyed, raven haired best friend too much to ever risk losing him. He loved how soft and warm he’d look when he first got up in the morning, when he was adorably grumpy before drinking his two cups of coffee. He loved how Cas never bothered trying to tame the perpetual bedhead his hair fell into, in fact it was an ongoing struggle to keep from running his fingers through that silky hair; his hands just about tingled whenever he had the thought. He loved how obstinate and immovable he could get when he was talking about something he was passionate about; he always stood by what he thought was right.. He loved how hot and powerful he’d look when he was pissed and his eyes were fiery and he’d command the halls he walked through; he’d look every inch the avenging angel he was named for. He loved a lot of things about his friend, but what he loved most about Cas, was the drawing. 

He loved how sometimes when they had a class together he could feel Cas’ eyes tracing his cheek bones and knew he was mapping the freckles strewn across his face by the constellations he would be drawing right after. When the drawing first began he’d tried to half-heartedly rationalize to himself that Cas was an art student, of course he drew a lot. He probably drew lots of people. But it would never fully work to will away the heat in his cheeks when he then considered how Cas must have a books worth of drawings of him by now; he would do it so often. He could feel Cas’ baby blue eyes on him at at least three times at random points in the day. Just thinking of those eyes made Dean feel a little bit better, his mind always flashed to the many instances in which he’d called them ‘baby blues’ to his face, simply for his reaction.

He would always make such a comically affronted expression whilst protesting vehemently that NO he did not have ‘baby blues’ his eyes were CERULEAN. Why the color was so important to him Dean had no idea (maybe it was an art student thing?), but it always brought him to tears hearing Cas say ‘baby blues’ and make little finger quotes as if it was some appalling and obscure term he’d never heard before and never wished to hear again. It was like watching a baby eat a lemon for the first time, simultaneously hilarious and unfailingly adorable. Those eyes had only made him love this particular habit of his friend’s all the more. The drawing itself had begun a few months after they’d met and had continued to this day. It was actually what had first made Dean realize how he felt about Cas. How else could he describe the warm all-encompassing feeling in his chest when he felt eyes on him. When he chanced a glance only to see Cas looking at him so intently, yet still entirely oblivious as to his subjects strong reactions to his attention, and his alone. Dean would feel a fluttering in his stomach that he’d never felt before Cas, and he always had to work so hard to repress the dopey grin that tried to sneak it’s way onto his face the moment he felt the gentle caress of his angel’s gaze. Which by this point was multiple times a day, needless to say his poker face had much improved since meeting Cas.

A few of the more memorable times this had happened was when they were in their room and Dean had jokingly pointed out how Cas couldn’t resist his stunningly gorgeous green eyes, dirty blonde hair, and generally Adonis like appearance (Dean might still harbor deep-seated insecurities about his intelligence and his worth, but he had always known he at least looked damn good). He would playfully try to strike poses similar to those attempted by women he’d taken home for one night stands in the past- he took men home too of course , but usually they didn’t bother with seduction and just got right down to it- he’d then bat his eyelashes and slap his trademark smirk on his face. Sometimes he’d even drape himself in Cas’ god awful beige trench coat that he wore twenty-four seven - the one that Dean pretended to hate but really found rather endearing- and he’d clutch the coat to his chest and make his most scandalized face, as if he was an innocent dame who was protecting her bosom from fiendish men. Usually when this happened Cas would break out into laughter and Dean would smile to himself and appreciate the sound before joining in with his friend. 

They’d soon get back to whatever they’d been doing and Dean would pretend to focus while waiting for when Cas would start drawing him again, not ten minutes after. In the beginning the drawing would give him hope that his angel returned his feelings, but after awhile when Cas never said or did anything that suggested he felt anything other then platonically about him, Dean started to slowly give up. He knew Castiel was the rare kind of person who didn’t care at all what anyone else thought of him. He did what he wanted and thought was right, and he never kept his thoughts bottled up. His friend was confident in who he was. Sure, Cas’d been seemed self conscious on a few rare occasions since Dean had known him-and he had always reassured his friend of how awesome he was- but Cas never truly let doubts like that keep him down for long. Like most people did, like Dean did.... Anyway, he was positive if Cas had even the slightest of inclinations to cradle his best friend’s face in his large yet soft hands and to carefully -and then passionately- kiss him, he would have made these inclinations known long ago; it was just how his angel was. 

And really Dean had been perfectly fine with that, he’d even tried to resume his habit of picking people up in bars that he’d previously dropped when he’d realized his feelings for Cas -it was neither here nor there that these encounters now left him feeling vaguely empty and unsatisfied after- but for some reason the ‘news’ had been the straw that broke the fucking camel's back for Dean Winchester. Jesus Christ...what the hell was he gonna do. Just thinking about the ‘news’ made Dean feel even more nauseous than he’d been before, how the hell was he supposed to apologize to Cas and pull some reasonable explanation for his behavior out of his ass when he couldn’t even think about it without feeling like he was gonna hurl chunks if someone even breathed on him funny. 

Dean clenched his fists in his lap and finally lifted his head to look at the clock. Fifteen minutes left, not too bad. Dean had a couple classes later in the afternoon but for now he had enough time to at least force himself to eat something and pretend that he wouldn’t immediately cave to the well-meaning barrage of prying questions Charls was sure to accost him with as soon as he left class. She would surely want to know what the hell was wrong with her usually lively surrogate brother. He knew he’d give in to her concern much easier then he would’ve on a normal day, but he now realized he didn’t currently have the capacity to care about her pity face. Maybe she’d even help him come up with a plausible excuse for his epic assholery... or she might just insist once again that he tell Cas the truth already. Ugh. What Dean really wanted was to blow off this whole day and go to the bar to drink himself into oblivion and try to chase away both the numbness, and the growing fear that Cas wasn’t gonna forgive him so easily this time. But he knew Sammy would be really disappointed by both him skipping the classes he usually worked so hard in and turning to the same coping mechanisms as John did. So it was another few hours of unappetizing burgers and droning voices he could not find the will to care about for Dean. Fucking Perfect. He looked at the clock again before laying his head back down. Seven minutes left.


	2. The Poor Bastard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabe's POV:

Poor Cassie was as stiff as a statue at this point. Normally I’d find his odd habit of becoming almost completely frozen hilarious, but even my seemingly endless reserves of good humor ran dry seeing the lost look on the poor bastard’s face. When other people were uncomfortable or dealing with a stressful sitch they’d most often fidget, bite their nails, maybe run their fingers through their hair. I discovered Cassie’s tick of turning to stone and retreating into himself, only a couple months after meeting him. My family had recently moved to town and I’d fallen into Cassie’s metaphorical lap a week into 11th grade; I realized quickly that if I wanted to escape that hell hole with whatever sanity I could claim to have, he was who I had to stick to like caramel on a candy apple. Everyone else in that one pony town were bland god-fearing folks, Cassie stuck out. I mean sure he went to church like the dutiful son he tried to be, but he had a wry dead-pan sort of humor that immediately made it obvious that I was looking at the singular vibrant splotch of navy blue paint in a black, white, grey, and beige landscape. Luckily Cassie jumped on my wondrously tangerine personality soon after I had this groundbreaking epiphany. We were each others only life raft out of that bad 60’s movie themed town. To this day I don't know how Cassie’s navy-ness survived so many years alone there without my vivid conversationalism, but I’m sure as hell glad it did…

Now to resolve his issue.I had just come in a few minutes late for our shared Art History class (as I always did) and took one long look at Cassie before turning to Meg. The would be she-demon she looks a mix of pissed off and concerned (tinged with her customary perpetual annoyance of course), though she always tries to hide how she actually cares about our precious feelings, she never quite manages it- truthfully I can relate. The familiar words leave my mouth like a reflex, “What the hell did Dean do this time?” Seriously, just seriously. When would these two chuckle-heads ever learn?

She sighed gustily and swept her tangle of dark curls over her shoulder before admitting, “ I finally got him to agree to do plan C....” , she glanced at Cassie out of the corner of her obsidian eyes with a flash of regret, “He hasn’t spoken yet but I think it’s safe to say it backfired epically.” She leaned forward a bit to tug lightly on their friends sleeve, but there was still no signs of response.

In fact, Cassie looked to be gazing unseeingly at a bee perched on one of the flowers outside the lecture hall window, yet another strike on how abnormal his behavior was. Sure, he was in the habit of staring at bees, but he’d usually look at them with a quiet wonder and fascination; he’d drew them almost as endlessly as he did Deano. Now he was just looking right through it. Really? To be fair, plan C had been a last resort considering they were all well aware of how territorial Dean could get, but the much simpler plans A and B had somehow managed to backfire catastrophically. As in I would be laughing at the end results of both for years to come and this entire debacle would be a funny story to share in my inevitable best man speech, catastrophically. Frankly, Cassie was getting desperate. Too bad plan C was a flop too.

WELP, that’s Dean Winchester for you, never makes anything easy. Rest assured I would of definitely locked the two idiots in a closet together months ago if Cassie hadn’t threatened to use that customary stockpile of blackmail- the one that every close friend has of each other- when he first overheard me suggesting it to Meg. Hmmm, then again if the closet magic actually worked and he could call Dean his boyfriend by the end of it then I’d think he’d be a little more forgiving. Okay, let’s call the closet idea plan D; first I gotta do some damage control and see how bad Deano’s managed to muck it up this time. I rub my hands together in anticipation, and glance to Meg for confirmation. She reads my face easily before solemnly nodding and saying, “Go for it Gabe, I already tried everything else before you got here.” I can already see an anticipatory mirth begin to shine through the veneer of annoyance.

Yup, it’s time to break out my favorite - and most reliable- method for reviving Cassie from his petrified state. I unzipped my backpack and fished around in my supply of candy bars and lollies until I found what I was looking for... Jackpot! I hold up the green apple lollie triumphantly before quickly whipping the wrapper off in a practiced dramatic maneuver. I look to Cassie just in case there’s been any change in his condition, nope, still looking AKA not looking at the bee. I gently cup his chin in my hand and pull his lax lips apart, he still doesn’t show any signs of acknowledging me so I stick the lollie in his mouth and sit back to wait.

And…. there it is. Cassie’s face abruptly breaks from his reverie of vague emptiness to a complete and utter disgust. My sides are shaking I’m laughing so hard, I can hear Meg cackling hysterically from nearby but I can’t tear my eyes from the sight of Cassie’s revulsiom, it’s priceless - gets me every time. The class had been talking at a medium volume while they did their work, but now I could feel a few eyes on us looking to see what was so funny. Cassie opened his mouth and numbly dropped the lollie with no regard for the notes it was falling onto. He didn’t look miserable anymore, he looked like he wanted to smite me. I’m sure if I were anyone else I would NOT want to be on the other end of that look, but fortunately I’m one of the privileged few whose aware that Cassie’s bark is always worse than his bite. As long as he doesn’t really hate you, then you’d surely have the wrath of the heavens at your door.

Though it’s hard to inspire genuine hatred from Cassie( for he tends not to care much about what people do aside from his friends) a sure fire way to get on his shit list would be crossing someone he cares about. Meanwhile I can simply recline back in my seat and give him my best shit-eating grin as Meg gingerly peals the lollie from the paper and chucks it in the garbage as she laughs. Cassie despises the flavor almost as much as he despises homophobes and misogynists, which is saying something really. As the smiting look begins to tone down a little, I take it as my cue to ask, “So what the hell happened with you and Deano anway?” No one could ever claim I was a master as subtlety.

Cassie’s glare abruptly dropped in favor of him giving me his best ‘well, what the hell do you think happened’ look, the words that came out of his mouth were blunt; his usual manner of speaking was to the point and sometimes even brusque but it was even more unforgiving when he was frustrated or angry. “He lashed out and plan C was an irrevocable failure, Gabriel.” Cassie says shortly, in a manner that says he believes the matter has now been sufficiently concluded, of course he knows me better than to honestly think I’d drop it, the shit just likes being contrary. I let out an exasperated sigh before saying, “ We’re gonna need more than that Cassie, what exactly happened?” He can be so uncooperative sometimes.

He got a huffy look on his face like he was already tired of the conversation before he finally says,“ I told him Meg invited me on a date- like we had planned- he asked if I accepted, and I said I had. He cast the usual aspersions against Meg’s character like he always does. I became angry, he became angry, I left-”. Cassie cut off to share an eye roll with Meg, who didn’t look offended in the least -she was used to it- before continuing, “ he said something about how Meg just wants to sleep with me and how he’s caught her staring at my ass on multiple occasions. I told him that she was my friend and she wouldn’t ask me out and just use me for intercourse. I also mentioned how aggravating I found his continued antagonistic behavior towards her.” He paused to turn to me with a supremely done look on his face and ask,“ Why will he not just get over it already Gabriel? I understand that he doesn’t like her but she’s as much a part of the group as you, Charlie, and Sam. That’s yet another thing, how can he be so uncivilized towards someone that his brother is so close to? He usually at least demonstrates a notable effort to get along with Sam’s friends. He’s being intolerably stubborn, he hasn’t even given himself a chance to like her-”

Cassie runs a hand through his untamed hair, as he often did when he was frustrated, “Ugh, he can be such an assbutt sometimes I question why I even fell in love with him in the first place.” Though I can relate to the words, I can also tell Cassie doesn’t actually mean them; he’s much to hopeless for that lug. Cassie ends his tirade by suddenly ripping off his trench coat with violent, tense movements before abruptly sprawling over it on his desk like a marionette whose strings had been cut.

Meg, who’d been shrewdly listening to Cassie’s rant now leaned forward and interlocked her fingers over her own desk. She looked like she was mockingly pretending to be a teacher as she said, “Well, I know what he meant about me staring at your ass, and it explains why he hates my guts. Also why he blew up” she paused as Cassie slowly sat up with renewed interest and motioned with his hand for her to continue, I was curious myself but had an inkling of what she was gonna say. She started again with a playful smirk on the corner of her lips, “ Well Clarence, you know how when we first met, I had the hots for you?”

She looked to him for acknowledgment and he nodded slightly, his brows were furrowed, partly in anticipation for what she would say and partly his long-held bewilderment for why Meg calls him Clarence (kid never saw ‘It’s A Wonderful Life’, then again he always preferred reading to TV and movies, so he never really understood pop culture references at all). I leaned forward on my forearms, amused at where this was going. Meg continued, “Well, when you introduced me to Dean he saw me staring at your ass a few times, and then I could tell last week that you were getting increasingly impatient with the total lack of progress between you two, and knew you’d probably agree to plan C sooner rather than later. So I started checking out your real estate again when I knew he’d see me...” She winked flirtatiously at Cassie and looked rightfully pleased with herself.

“I figured he looks at you almost as much as you look at him, he’d surely notice if someone else was looking too-”, Cassie soon interjected in apparent confusion. “Please clarify Meg, were you trying to institute a plausible groundwork to make the idea of you asking my out more palatable? Or were you attempting to make him jealous in order to provoke a heightened reaction to plan C?” Now the furrow was 100% bewilderment. Poor Cassie, he really had so little practical experience with this stuff. Sure, he joined in on me and Meg’s schemes all the time but he didn’t really do relationships. He’d had crushes in High School and stuff, and he was in love with Dean. But he’d never had a boyfriend- or girlfriend, not that that really mattered though, Cassie’s never been interested in the female persuasion- and he got a healthy amount of ‘other’ experience from one night stands and stuff but he’d never been with someone he cared about. He’d never dated. He was really clueless.

As was Dean of course, because clearly the dude had no idea that Cassie only swung one way, not the both that he no doubt suspected. Cassie had told them a few weeks ago how he had realized Dean’s false assumption during a random convo about their sexualities, he’d said he hadn’t corrected Dean at the time because it had seemed harmless and would be just as well in case he finally conceded to plan C. Hmm, though I can see why the muttonhead would get that idea, he’d clearly seen Cassie going home with both genders when they went to the bar as a group. How would he know that that one woman had just been a friend of Cassie’s from his Philosophy class that was too drunk to get home? He’d probably seen Cas putting his hand on the small of her back as a romantic gesture as opposed to him being a gentlemen and offering her support so she wouldn’t stumble, as he’d surely been intending.

No doubt Cassie telling them about Dean’s misconception had also prompted Meg’s preemptive ass-staring, I felt an unexpected flare of pride and fondness as I looked to the she-demon I had the honor of calling my friend. She could be so deliciously manipulative, it made scheming with her always so much more fun than scheming alone. I love my friends. I smile fondly and share a commiserating glance with Meg, the sentiment ‘what would he do without us’ heavy in the look. She turned back to Cassie’s bemused face, his cerulean eyes widened owlishly.Meg took on the look of someone imparting critical knowledge as she loftily said, “ A little bit of both Clarence, don’t you see? His blowup was a good thing, he never really liked me cuz he always thought I wanted you and he was jealous. Dean got pissed because he wants you to himself and he also doesn’t want you to get hurt; he knows you got no romantic experience and he thinks I just want you for a hookup. Everyone knows casual sex between friends always gets messy.”

It took serious work not to snort at the look on Cassie’s face, he was so earnest when he was learning, it was if he was taking Meg’s words as gospel. It never failed to be an oddly funny juxtaposition how intelligent Cassie could be in matters that ranged from Physics to Philosophy, and yet be completely out of his depth and oblivious to simple social cues other people understood instantaneously. Then again, if Cassie wasn’t so utterly unique I doubt we’d be friends, he would’ve been just another shade of grey. Really, all my friends are that way. Charlie’s a canary yellow, Deano’s a forest green - though Cassie’s constantly insisting that he’s an amber only tinged with forest green- Samsquanch is a chartreuse, Meg’s an eggplant, and Cassie’s of course a navy blue. Nope, I would never have any god forbid greyscale friends, I shudder just at the thought. Meg looks at me curiously and cocks an eyebrow, though I can see from the amused twinkle in her eyes she’s having similar thoughts about him. I just wave a hand and smile so she turns back to Cassie.

I snort at the look on his face; he’s definitely ‘filing away the information provided in his mental database for future reference’. Yea, Cassie can be a bit of a dork, but no one would call him ordinary. Even the way he talks is unusual. As for his current issue, I turned to Meg. “Ok, so we’ve established your brilliance at subterfuge and manipulation. What’s the plan now? Dean’s probably wallowing in self-loathing like he always does after arguments.” I feel a small swell of pity for the poor guy, he always blames himself for every little thing. No doubt a product of his shit-head of a dad. At that a concerned look crossed Cassie’s face and Meg looked a little put-out, she said, “I actually never considered that Cassie might simply defend my honor and storm out, I thought there might be a dramatic confession and passionate embrace.” Meg finished with a dramatically wistful sigh, staring out the window with a lovelorn expression.

I had to bite my fist to keep my shit together. Yea right. Cassie looked like he seriously wanted to smack a hand to his forehead and I looked to Meg just to confirm she was in fact screwing with us; though I really didn’t need to Meg was never lovelorn or wistful like the rest of the ‘sniveling mortals’ she interacted with. Yep, sure enough the makings of a snicker was trying to burst forth on her face. I could admit I was amused despite myself, it was just in my nature. I had seriously never succeeded in a try not to laugh video in my life.

Meg suddenly met my eyes and I couldn’t help the snort that burst forth if I’d tried. I could tell this was gonna be one of those times when two people simultaneously found something inexplicably hilarious and broke into that particular brand of unstoppable can’t- breathe laughter. Sure enough once Meg started cackling again I joined in and couldn’t stop, I was to busy picturing Dean Winchester- the most emotionally stunted guy I’d ever met (really it was a miracle he wasn’t closeted or something)- sweeping our serious little ol’ Cassie in a frickin passionate embrace and riding off into the sunset with him on a white horse.

Cassie’s exasperated and ticked off face broke through the mental image but only made me and Meg laugh harder, once you got going it takes practically and act of god to get it to stop. As our laughter gradually pettered off, Cassie’s face suddenly gave me a new idea instead of setting me off again. I snapped my fingers quickly and waited until Meg had stopped completely and Cassie deemed to look at me again before sharing my brilliant idea .“ We need to get you drunk ASAP! Everything will be much clearer in the morning, I guarantee it.” I proclaimed in a tone that brokered absolutely no argument. He looked incredulous to say the least. Cassie’d had an iron alcohol constitution even in High School, and now a few months of going out with the gang routinely he could even drink the Winchesters under the table (trust me, not an easy feat). But I knew a guy downtown that I think had the right stuff to accomplish it, Meg looked markedly thrilled, she must of been getting bored lately to let the veneer of perpetual annoyance disappear almost completely.

I turned to Cassie and said, “Trust me kiddo the grass’ll be greener on the other side.” He seemed to concede gracefully, I guess he really was that frustrated (that or he just really wanted to get the taste of that lollie of his tongue), he didn’t usually condone - let alone participate in- such behavior on school nights. His stringence when it came to education and the proper way he talked were what was left over from his days as the ’dutiful son’. It was a good thing he had no idea what I was really planning after those drinks; Cassie would NOT approve...but it seemed like I wasn’t gonna need plan D after all.


	3. The Adonis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's POV:

** _10 Hours Later….._ **

  
  


Castiel’s current state of being could most accurately be likened to that of a plush stuffed animal. He felt warm and fuzzy. The copious amounts of alcohol he had consumed heated his chest and muddled his head; in a word, it felt like wading through a pool of crembruelè fresh from the oven. In his drunken stupor he found the mental image perversely hilarious, Castiel made a sound that would of been a giggle if his vocal register wasn’t so obsenscenly low. Gabriel glanced at him from where he was holding him up - no easy task considering Gabe was at least 6 inches shorter and he was supporting most of his friend’s body weight- his hazel eyes were alight with his ever-present mirth and his eyebrows were quirked in a questioning lilt.

He stumbled a little on an uneven piece of linoleum and caught himself on the edge of a nearby door frame. Castiel absently mused to himself what a dependable friend Gabriel was -despite his efforts at appearing perpetually blàse- he could always tell how much Gabe cared about him and how he would always be there for him. As if to prove this unspoken point his friend said in a seemingly abrupt manner, “Don’t worry too much about Deano Cassie, that chucklehead will know everything’s good between you once I drop you at your room. He won’t be stewing much longer then.” Gabe winked and Castiel felt a nagging suspicion in the back of his temporarily addled mind; his friend looked like he usually did when he schemed. 

The thought was ephemeral, as he was suddenly very excited at the idea of seeing Dean, the excitement coupled with the vodka had him uncharacteristically babbling to Gabe.“ You’re taking me to  _ Dean?”  _ Tomorrow he’d surely be mortified on how much his voice sounded like an exuberant puppy given his favorite treat in this moment. At least he was one of the lucky few who never slurred when inebriated. 

“Thank goodness Gabe, Dean gives really good hugs he’s always so warm and strong...I bet he’s a  _ really _ good cuddler too Gabe. I want him to cuddle me, how come he never does?” He didn’t have the mental faculties to be annoyed at himself for whining, he just needed his friend to answer his vital question. Gabe didn’t bother restraining his near hysterical laughter, then again he was very rarely the type of person who tried to restrain laughter. The sound vibrated through Cas’ lower torso where they were connected.

“Gabbbeeee, why do you think Dean won’t just cuddle me already? Can’t you see I’m aggrieved by this? … Why are you laughing you assbutt I’m asking you a serious question!” Castiel said in a tone that began as plaintitive and ended terse and whiny once again. Forget everything Castiel said about him being a good friend, he was simply an idiot that Cas occasionally allowed the pleasure of his presence. The young man sniffed imperiously to his friend and attempted to draw himself up so he could walk unaided.

“Finne, I don’t need you Gabriel! I’ll find Dean myself and ask him, you’re no help at allll.” He huffed to himself and Gabe’s grip around his waist tightened minutely.

“Come on Cassie, you’d be laughing too if I was in your place, I’ll get you to Deano much faster than you’d get there yourself and you know it.” Castiel could tell just by Gabe’s voice that he was even more amused at his friend’s attempts at sounding butt-hurt whilst maintaining dignity.

At least he’d finally reigned in his laughter and tried to reason. Castiel grudgingly conceded to his logic only because he wanted to be in Dean’s arms sooner, but didn’t deem the menace at his side any more than a grunt of acquiesce. The two trudged on at a sedate pace, but Cas was pleasantly surprised that he could see their dorm coming into view within 10 minutes. Though Gabe always had been stronger than he looked. Castiel vaguely felt his friend’s head turning both ways to check it was safe to cross the street; a reflexive movement given they hadn’t seen any cars on the entire walk here. They soon came up to Cas and Dean’s dorm room and  Gabe knocked on the door with his customary two, three, two knock pattern. 

The two didn’t have to wait more than the space a few seconds before they heard quick footsteps on the other side, as if the occupant had been waiting poised from within for exactly such a knock. The door was pulled open without further ado and Dean’s freckled face came into view, looking exhausted and hair disheveled. He looked like an adorably rumpled Adonis. Perfect for a cuddle, just as Castiel had suspected. Though he had an expression that was a mix of hopeful and concerned when he first opened the door, his face settled into a wary kind of relief when he saw who was outside. As if he was gladdened that his friend had returned home safely but was unsure of how he would be greeted. 

Gabe interjected the mildly tense exchange with his usual tact - well tense on Dean’s part anyway, Cas was just ecstatic to be home and wanted to be enveloped in his love’s arms already- Castiel dimly noted that Gabe was smirking when he managed to look away from Dean for a five second period and had the sense that a quip was coming.“ Yo, Deano I’ve got your package. Where you gonna sign for it?” Gabe ask in a quite facetious manner. Dean finally looked away from Cas to frown bemusedly at Gabriel.“ Is he drunk?” Dean asked in surprise, knowing the unlikely hood of Cas getting drunk at all, let alone on a school night. Castiel, who had been quiet up until this point as he’d been engaged in a staring match with Dean and trying -but failing- to hold back a grin at seeing his best friend, was now torn between joy and utter irritation. 

“ Yes, Dean. I am indeed inebriated, now would you be so kind as to send this absolute menace away and cuddle with me!” Castiel loftily retorted with a dry exasperation. He clearly wanted the conversation to be over already so he could get to the sure to be enjoyed portion of this evening. Honestly, he was getting impatient now, he was confounded as to why his friends could not see the clear path ahead like Castiel could. He was quickly sidetracked off the train of thought as his eyes suddenly caught on the freckles on Dean’s broad shoulders. 

They had been rendered bare by the wife-beater Dean had been wearing in his obviously failed attempts at sleep and now Cas reached a hand out to gently trace a few of them in patterns. He was entirely oblivious to the slack jawed expression on the face of the friend he was tracing, as well as the deep red staining his cheeks. If he had been more aware of his surroundings he would’ve also noticed how his side was once again vibrating with Gabe’s laughter as his arm gradually receded from its place at Castiel’s waist. He probably would have been quite interested in trying to decipher Dean’s look of complete shock and growing amusement mixed with a pleased undertone at not only finding his friend having forgiven him but adorably affectionate in his drunken state.

He would of course have no idea how his inebriated state was taking both a positive and negative total on Dean’s mental faculties (many people would refer to it as a ‘cuteness overload’). But nonetheless, he was completely captivated with the beautiful freckles and didn’t notice any of this. Yet another thing to regret in the morning. Castiel did eventually notice after an indefinite period of time that Gabriel had left; he had no doubt missed his attempts at farewell in his distracted state. At that he abruptly remembered what his objective had been for most of the walk back. 

He chanced a glance at Dean’s face to find his friend watching him with a soft smile on his face, curious. Cas had suspected Dean would have laughed as well, but he simply look very fond. He felt more warmed by the look then he’d been by any of the alcohol he’d consumed. He made the logical decision based off these conclusions and moved till he was right in Dean’s bubble of personal space, hand still comfortably holding his bicep. Dean either wasn’t conscious of the sudden intrusion or didn’t mind it much. 

Castiel let go of the bicep to embrace his friend in a half hug, half slouch to hold his weight. He had his arms wrapped around Dean’s neck and one hand cupped gently around his nape. Once he was properly situated (and Dean had an un-tensed, though he seemed at a loss of what to do) Castiel snuggled into the little nook between Dean’s neck and his lovely shoulders. He caught a whiff of Dean’s scent and inhaled deeply. He always loved the way Dean smelled, it’s why Cas always stole his t-shirts when he thought he wouldn’t notice.

“Dean..” Cas whispered in his ear and seemed to be waiting for a reply before continuing. Dean had slowly brought his arms around to encircle Castiel’s waist and now held him close.“Yea Cas?” Dean spoke in equally low tones, as if not wishing to break the quiet moment by speaking louder. “Have I ever told you that you smell reallyy nice?” Cas punctuated the statement by further burrowing his nose in Dean’s neck to smell. He felt a warm exelation brushing his hair as Dean chuckled. Hmm, Dean had such a nice laugh, it was such a warm sound.

“No, I think it’s safe to say you’ve never told me you like my BO before dude.” Dean replied in an amused tone as he unconsciously held Cas tighter. “Well you do smell really very nice, and have I told you how pretty your freckles are? Surely, I must have mentioned t _ hat _ .” Cas begin tenderly stroking the hair at the base of Dean’s head as he continued by saying, almost to himself, “So many freckles… all over…I wonder how long it would take to kiss every single one of them.” He sounded most intrigued at the prospect.


	4. The Lucky Bastard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabe's POV

After I’d made the appropriate the innuendo's of leaving Cassie in Dean’s safe hands, I gently let go of Cassie’s waist and gave Dean a two fingered salute before walking in the direction of my own room. Of course I hadn’t actually left and had really hid behind the vending machine not ten feet away. Not that the lovesick fools looked away from each other long enough to notice though. I was safe to observe at a distance as Cassie seemed to be finally about to get his cuddle. I had to hold back a chuckle at that, really the guy was like a kitten when he was drunk. Affectionate and needy one second, hissing at you in annoyance the next. Dean and I were obviously on opposite sides of the spectrum in kitten Cassie’s mind. As evidenced by how he was currently swaddled in Dean’s arms, and going on about how awesome Dean was. I didn’t care to listen too closely- the sight alone was almost enough to make my teeth ache. The idiots were still standing right in the doorway. There! It looked like things were finally moving, Dean had buried his red face into Cassie’s nest of hair and nuzzled it for a second before he gently pulled back to tell his drunken friend it was time to turn in. He didn’t attempt to detach Cassie’s head from his shoulder the whole way inside. He just held him closer to support his weight. No doubt there would in fact be cuddling in Cassie’s future. That lucky bastard. It looked like the two muttonheads would be just fine after all. And even if they still hadn’t figured it out after this… well there was always plan D.


End file.
